


La nuit

by UsaChan1997



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Childhood Friends, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2020-10-13 15:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UsaChan1997/pseuds/UsaChan1997
Summary: Maybe if Marinette Dupain-Cheng had stayed home that night, she would have never seen him again. Never encountered that beast. Perhaps her time in the woods with the green-eyed boy would have remained a faint memory, and her butterfly pendant would have remained a simple piece of jewelry. But she did go to the Bourgeois mansion. She did lay eyes on Adrien Agreste-- and the thing that he became under the light of the full moon.





	1. Mon étoile

The evening’s events had begun simply enough.

Though this was a gathering of Paris’ elite, young people of excellent breeding and superior status, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s mother had assured her that with her beauty and wits, she would shine brilliantly as a star. “You will dazzle them, mon étoile,” she had assured as she arranged her daughter’s carefully-styled curls to frame her face and straightened her favorite butterfly pendant so it lay gracefully on her collarbone.

“But m-mother…” Marinette gazed at the girl reflected in the mirror before her. A girl who, though she had pretty features and a youthful glow upon her cheeks, had neither the money nor the social standing to fit in with young heirs and heiresses. Her dress, though well-made by her own hand, was comparatively plain. Not expensive or flashy, it was a simple frock, a pale yellow she had picked because it reminded her of candlelight. 

No, Marinette was not of the nobility. She had only been invited to Lord Bourgeois’ manor as a courtesy for her father’s continued service. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Marinette,” Her mother pressed a kiss on her forehead and smiled knowingly. “Believe in yourself as I believe in you.” She helped her to her feet, brushing off an errant bit of fluff. “And,” she added, “if this takes a turn for the worse, you can always return home, we’ll send for Miss Cesaire and we shall eat an entire batch of chocolate croissants.”

This sent the two into a fit of hearty laughter, and Marinette departed in high spirits.

Her mood dampened significantly, however, when she arrived at the party and, as expected, had no one to talk to. She sat at the card table with the other young ladies, who were all overflowing with jewels and silk, tittering in soft tones. They alternated between two subjects: gossip involving individuals to whom she was not privy, and the group of gentlemen sitting at the table opposite them. Covering their mouths with their fans, they snuck glances with all the subtlety of the gaudy chandelier hanging above them. Marinette didn’t mind much, even when she caught the occasional disapproving sneer directed her way. Mostly, they ignored her.

Bored, Marinette found herself sneaking her own glances at the gentleman as they gambled. There were a few faces she had seen at other events her father had catered. Even one or two she had run into at the bakery. But there was one face she had never seen that seemed to cause a bit of a stir. He was a blonde young man dressed from head to toe in black, a trim suit and fine boots polished to a shine. The sole splash of color was his tie—light green, like his eyes.

Marinette found herself drawn to this boy, both to his soft, almost childlike features and to the smile he wore. It was pleasant enough, appreciative of the attention he was receiving. But it was also distant. A little forced, even. As if he were feeling as stifled as she was.

Once, just once, he caught her staring, and those enchanting eyes of his met her own, curiosity bringing them a new light. Embarrassed, Marinette gave a half-smile and immediately hid her face behind her cards. How foolish of me, she groaned internally. He probably thinks I’m rather odd.

“…Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette blinked at the sound of her name, snapping out of her reverie. “Um, yes?”

The young lady who had called on her, Miss Chloe Bourgeois herself, gave her a calculating glance through her long lashes before flashing a thin smile. “It’s your turn, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“Ah!” Marinette flushed, glancing frantically at her hand and the cards already in play. “My apologies.”

“Take your time, dear,” Miss Bourgeois’ voice was like honey. “This must be a new experience for you.” 

There were a smattering of giggles. Marinette did her best to affect a cheery demeanor in spite of the jab. “Truly,” she agreed. “Though I’ve played cards before, I’ve never had such… sophisticated opponents.” With that, Marinette laid down her card, winning the round. This earned her a few gasps. The girl grinned, and this time its audacity reached her blue eyes. “Shall we start a new round?”

The commotion caught the attention of the men, who began to raise a bit of a stir. “Shown up by the baker’s daughter, eh, Miss Bourgeois?” Guffawed a politician’s son. “Truly a testament to fine breeding!” added Mr. Couffaine, a famed entertainer. Marinette allowed herself a tiny bit of triumph until she noticed those green eyes on her again. They were filled with amusement. Or was it… curiosity?

With brows furrowed, Miss Bourgeois cleared her throat. “Settle down, gentlemen. Miss Dupain-Cheng, you wish to play another hand? How dull. Let us ladies take a walk in the garden and allow those silly men to play in peace.”


	2. The Maze

As their queen bid, the group migrated to the Bourgeois’ extravagant rose garden. Even with such unpleasant company and a sky full of gathering clouds, Marinette had to admit that she adored this place. The foliage was perfectly trimmed, dotted by thousands of blooms extending across wide-open grounds. The scent was somehow nostalgic, and she half-listened, half-daydreamed, falling behind the others on their trek along the path of the garden’s sprawling hedge maze. 

_ “Why are you all alone?” _

_ “Wah!” The boy dropped his picture-book at the sound of her voice, drawing his knees to his chest as he stared at her with big, innocent green eyes. “A-Are you.. a g-ghost?” _

_ Marinette laughed at the boy seated among the roses. “Of course not, silly! I’m Marinette.” she jabbed a thumb at her chest. “I am a forest explorer.” _

_ The boy’s eyes somehow grew even wider. “What’s that?” _

_ “It’s a person who looks for cool animals and bugs and stuff in the woods!” Marinette gestured to the trees.  _

_ “But… this place isn’t the forest anymore,” he said. “It’s Mama’s garden.” _

_ “Ooooh,” Marinette scratched her chin in thought. “Then maybe… we can be garden explorers!” She reached out both hands and helped the boy to his feet. “Do you wanna?” _

_ “Do I… wanna…” the boy’s cheeks flushed. He blinked back at the strange girl with the bobbing pigtails and shining blue eyes. Suddenly, he found himself smiling. “Yeah.” _

“He came after all.”

With these words, Marinette was snapped out of her reverie. She glanced up from a swath of pink roses to see that Miss Rencomprix, whose relationship to Miss Bourgeois fell somewhere between friend and lackey, was the one who had spoken them. “Judging by how reclusive his father is, I was shocked.”

“I wasn’t,” Miss Bourgeois boasted, twirling joyously around the next corner. “After all, it was I who asked him. We’ve been betrothed since we were born, he can’t very well say ‘no’.”

“You’re betrothed?” Marinette, realizing that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, put a sheepish hand over her mouth as the other girls turned back to look at her.

“Well, of course she would be!” Miss Rencomprix chirped. “And to Mr. Adrien Agreste, no less. Nothing but the best for Lady Chloe.”

Agreste? Now where had Marinette heard that name? Her father certainly had many customers, but she had an inkling the connection was deeper than that. Hearing that name again after so long was like the smell of roses—it awoke a childlike yearning in her, a mental itch that she couldn’t quite scratch. Absently, Marinette fingered her pendant, its delicate golden wings. What could this mean?

Seeing how lost Marinette looked, Lady Bourgeois smirked, drawing closer and placing a hand on her shoulder in mock-sympathy. “Ladies, we must be conscious of Miss Dupain-Cheng’s lack of connections, so as not to be rude.’ Marinette stiffened and tried to shy away, but Chloe’s grip was like iron. “I’m sure you saw him, Miss Dupain-Cheng. He was the fellow with the gold hair and green eyes. His parents and mine have had an agreement for ages, and we get along just swimmingly.”

What? So the boy she had fawned over earlier was… Adrien Agreste. She felt a pang of  _ something. _ It made her want to tear her hair out. Of course he was marrying Chloe. Marinette hid her disdain and took Miss Bourgeois’ free hand, planting a small kiss on her knuckles. “Congratulations. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” 

“Naturally,“ Chloe jerked away, retracting her hand like she’d been stung, but was quick to recover. She chuckled. “Perhaps you can bake my wedding cake.”

“P-Perhaps.” Marinette’s right eyebrow twitched. She thought if she ever received such an order, she might ‘accidentally’ use salt instead of sugar. What a shame that would be.

The party continued deeper and deeper into the heart of the maze. Marinette resumed her role of trailing behind and listening occasionally, until the group began to tire of the twisting routes and numerous dead-ends. “Are you sure you can solve the maze, Miss Bourgeois?” Marinette asked, plopping down on the grass to rest her legs.

“Of course!” Chloe shot back. “But… for your sake, we’ll stop here for now.” So they did, Miss Rencomprix laying down her shawl so that Chloe’s dress wouldn’t get dirty as she sat. As they took their breather, Lila Rossi, famed daughter of Italian diplomats and, Marinette noted, compulsive liar, posed an unexpected question.

“Have you heard tell of the recent spree of murders in this area?”

There was a collective intake of breath as everyone went silent. Their faces became paler than those freshly powdered. “Are you sure this matter is… appropriate to discuss?” Miss Ploye, a mousy girl who had reacted strongly to the word ‘murder’, looked ready to faint as she fanned herself.

“What, are you all cowards?” Miss Rossi goaded. “Surely you’re a little curious.”

Marinette was curious. She had heard whispering these past few months. Her parents had discussed it. Always looking pained. Always in private. She only knew that there was someone on the loose. That her father didn’t let her roam the streets alone anymore. The other girls looked uneasy, frightened, even. But Marinette, and evidently Miss Rossi, could tell that they wanted to know, too.

“My parents have many connections, so I am more informed than any of the papers. Lucky you,” Miss Rossi winked, playing to her spellbound audience. “The police say they have no suspects. No direct witnesses, either. First it was livestock. Farmers found their flocks decimated; in lieu of dew spangling their fields in the early morning, their pastures were dyed with  _ blood _ .” She paused for emphasis, looking each girl in the eye. “Then, about three months ago… there were human victims.”

“Hu-Human…” Miss Rencomprix shuddered. “Like a killer?”

“Like a beast,” Miss Rossi said gravely. “Like a vicious animal. The pour souls were clawed and bitten to shreds.”

Marinette’s hand flew to her chest, to her pounding heart. “Did they… die?”

Miss Rossi nodded. “Fortunately, no one of consequence has been killed thus far. Only belligerent drunks and petty criminals.”

“Could it actually be an escaped animal?” Miss Ploye murmured. 

“What about… a madman?” Miss Rencomprix hugged herself tight.

“Ridiculous,” Miss Bourgeois scoffed. “Utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh, and there’s something else that’s strange,” Miss Rossi piped up, eyes sparkling. “There’s a pattern. The attacks always occur with the coming of the full moon.”

Unconsciously, every pair of eyes drifted to the darkening sky. “Is that… tonight?” Miss Bourgeois gulped, leaning against Miss Rencomprix for protection. They all shared glances, none remembering whether the moon would be full this night. Marinette bit her lip. 

“Ahahahaha!” Miss Rossi’s laugh shattered their tense silence, and she wiped tears from her eyes. “You lot are too easy. Do you think a beast like that could ever reach this manse? It’s a veritable fortress. Come on, we should go back. If that’s alright with you, Miss Bourgeois?”

“Sly as a fox, you are.” Chloe grumbled. “And cheeky. But you’re right, we should go home.”

Marinette moved to stand up, brushing her curls to the side. Suddenly, she realized it. Her locket was not hanging around her neck. Instantly, panic began to rise from the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t lose it in a place like this, she’d never see it again. “Um, ladies?”

“Hurry, Miss Dupain-Cheng. It smells like rain,” called Miss Bourgeois.

“Could you…” She gritted her teeth, considering her options. It would be dark soon. Rainy. But there was no way… No. She could find it. “I mean—no. Go on ahead without me.”

“What?” Miss Ploye’s nose scrunched. “Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes. I’ve lost something along the path, and I need to find it. It’s very important.” She held the girls’ gaze, hoping, for a moment, that one of them might offer to help her look.

“Well, fine.” Miss Bourgeois waved, dismissive. “You’re a clever girl, I’m sure you’ll find it and solve the maze to boot. Let’s go, girls.”


	3. The Heart of the Maze

A few of the girls had looked a bit hesitant, but in the end, they all left, leaving Marinette crawling on her knees, searching for the shine of her gold pendant against the greenery. Part of her was bitter that it seemed none of them had a considerate bone in their body, and part of her was relieved to be rid of them.

But her relief was short-lived; her pendant was proving impossible to find. Would it be on the path? Stuck in one of the shrubs? With every step, Marinette’s heart sank further. But she continued, even as raindrops speckled her nose, her forearms, her dress. Carefully, she picked her way backward, reaching the clearing where Miss Bourgeois had revealed her engagement. Marinette had a hunch that this would be the right spot.

_ “I found it!” The boy grinned at her, pulling something shimmery and gold from one of the rose bushes. “I hid it for you so Papa wouldn’t find out. Isn’t it pretty, Marinette?” _

_ “Wait, your hands!” Marinette hurried to his side, examining the scratches peppering his palms. “You’re always so reckless, you have to be more careful.” _

_ “This is nothing,” the boy showed a confident grin. “As long as you’re happy.” _

“Ah!” Marinette grinned, spotting the butterfly stuck among deep-red roses. “How did you get there, little guy?” Carefully, she worked the chain, and then the charm itself, free from the tangle of thorns. A dots of blood bloomed on her fingertips from thorn-pricks, but that was nothing. Marinette was simply grateful to find her treasured pendant. As she secured it safely around her neck—

_ BOOM! _

A clap of thunder sounded, resonating deep in Marinette’s bones and sending a shiver throughout her body. The light sprinkle of rain from before was steadily becoming a downpour, clouds began to obscure the rising full moon. Frantic in the fading light, the young lady removed her heels, hiked up her muddy dress and ran in what she hoped was the direction of the manor. WIth every turn, she prayed to the goddess of luck that she might find the right path amidst the dead-ends.

By the time she hit the maze’s circular clearing—roughly the halfway point, she remembered— the quaint path had turned to muck. Blinded by the wind and rain, her trek forward illuminated only by brief flashes of lightning, she was stopped in her tracks by the sudden sound of squelching footsteps.

They were faint, barely audible in the rainy soundscape. Marinette glanced over her shoulder. Nothing--or, at least, nothing she could make out in the darkness. Was she going mad? Paranoid about Miss Rossi’s little story? 

She picked up her pace. The footsteps followed in kind. They were definitely real. Marinette tried with all her might to keep moving forward, toward lights and help and warm blankets. But part of her was already fearing the end. Her rational mind knew she couldn’t outrun a wild animal. A human killer? Maybe. But not the rumored beast.

_ Grrrrrrr _ . 

The gutteral noise sent chills shooting up Marinette’s spine. She froze, staring in abject terror at two luminous green eyes boring into her own. No longer behind her, the beast was instead blocking her escape. With every heartbeat, it inched closer. Its vaguely feline form melded with the shadows, making it hard to parce, but when it snarled, Marinette caught the flash of razor-sharp teeth. She was sure in one swift motion, her throat could be ripped out.

So much for screaming for help. Even if she did scream, she knew no one would hear her. No one here cared where she was, much less if she lived or died. The gears in her brain raced to find an exit strategy, but adrenaline could only take her so far, and she sank to her knees. All she could focus on were those eyes: wild, bloodthirsty. With every breath she took, the distance between them shrank and fear paralyzed Marinette to her core. 

“M-Maman, Papa.” She wasn’t sure when she’d started to cry, but there were hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She could not still her chattering teeth or aching hands, all she could do was sob as the beast knocked her back. It towered over her, one paw raised to deliver the final blow.

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, clutched her pendant and awaited her end.

Seconds ticked by, but she felt no pain. It was agonizing, not knowing when death would come, but she dared not move. She felt the rain subsiding around her, and heard the monster’s slow breathing. What was it waiting for? With nothing left to lose, Marinette felt courage coursing through her. She cracked open one eye, then the other. What she saw made her heart stop.

The beast was… hovering over her like a common housecat. Its eyes, which had been brimming with bloodlust moments before, held only curiosity now. When she met the animal’s gaze, it blinked back at her, head tilted slightly to the side. When the beast leaned its head closer, Marinette flinched, only to feel its whiskers tickle her cheek. It was… sniffing her pendant?

“N-Nice kitty,” Marinette squeaked, raising a trembling hand to the beast’s muzzle. It gave her a little nudge before circling back behind her. “Ah!” she yelped as the animal head-butted her gently, as if urging her to stand.

“I… I don’t know if i can walk yet, Kitty.” Marinette admitted. She had managed to sit up, but her legs were still trembling. This whole situation was too surreal to process. Was this the same creature from the rumors? Why would such a beast spare her life? And now… she was talking. Did the creature even understand French?

As if in answer, the beast nudged its nose under the crook of her arm, easing her to her feet and bearing most of her weight. With her arms resting around the cat’s neck, she could feel the softness of silky fur, warmth easing the numbing chill that had overtaken her. She could even hear a steady heartbeat. She reminded herself that she needed to move now, needed to walk back to the manor. But this was so comforting, like hugging the biggest teddy bear in existence. And she was so exhausted...

Everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I think I've finally figured out where we're headed. This was originally meant to be a one-shot, but I went and made it complicated again, hehe.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Marichat May, this spiraled into a bigger story idea. Hope you all enjoy! :)


End file.
